THE NATURE OF WORDS

Fear no
wilderness,

and should you come
upon declivitous rivers crystalline
and lambent, flowing
toward sunsets rosacious
and fuscious, as they wend through
forests ferruginous or
verdurous (depending on
the season), strewn on each side with flowers
tesselated and panicled, and some even
crenated, and all this midst rock fields
micacious, surrounded
by stertorous sounds and sweet smells

lilacious, know you are
lost only
in

Thoreau's Journal.


After reading my 2,036th page
February 9, 2002



All written material © Bill Schechter, 2016
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